


And Famine

by sciencefictioness



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asexual Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Internalized Acephobia, M/M, Soul Bond, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-26 13:10:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15001583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciencefictioness/pseuds/sciencefictioness
Summary: “No one eats until this place is clean.  Not just this morning, but every morning.  Get it done, and we’ll go from there.”Everyone’s eyes snap over to him.  Auruo grins, obviously having expected this, a devious kind of enjoyment on his face.  Petra’s smirk is softer, but she’s amused too, and she gestures over towards Levi at the collective groans of the recruits.“Captain Levi will be overseeing your training personally, so I suggest you get to it.”There are a flurry of salutes, a handful of half-hearted acknowledgments, yes Captain, as the recruits all slowly move to obey.All except one, who’s crouched next to a bunk with his hand in his pack, frozen in place.  He’s staring up at Levi, eyes wide and vivid bright, irises so green it’s almost eerie.  His hair is wild, tangled from the ride in and falling in messy russet waves across his cheekbones.  He cocks his head to the side, and his nostrils flare as he breathes in deep, brows furrowing in confusion.Something inside of Levi throbs, and it’s painful, and suffocating.As though he’s full of smoke, and there is nowhere for it to go.





	1. Starved

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chenziee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chenziee/gifts).



The sun hasn’t risen yet, but Levi can see it out the window, glowing bright underneath the tree line.  The promise of day, alive and vibrant but just out of reach.

 

Something about it makes Levi shift uncomfortably, and he resists the urge to scratch at his throat, glancing back up at Erwin across his desk.  

 

He’s been in Erwin’s office enough times that it should be old news by now, but his expression this morning has Levi on edge.  There aren’t any expeditions coming up, not for a while, and everything is already prepared for the next batch of cadets. They’re arriving later that day, not that it’s high on Levi’s list of priorities, because that’s categorically not his responsibility.  Even if it was, it’s not as if trainees are chomping at the bit to sign up for the survey corps, and handling a dozen or so fresh soldiers doesn’t require strategy meetings.

 

Erwin doesn’t look like this when they’re strategizing, anyway, when they’re talking tactics or delegating training.  Brows furrowed, eyes narrow, lips curling unhappily.

 

As though he knows what words he needs to say, and doesn’t like the way they taste in his mouth.  Levi frowns and picks up his tea, taking a drink and ignoring the bitter flavor, the sharp bite of herbs.  It’s familiar, something he’s been drinking for the better part of two decades, but it never goes down any easier.  Erwin watches him, expression souring further as he follows the cup with his gaze. Levi sets it on the table with a sigh, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs, one ankle resting on the opposite knee.

 

“Spit it the fuck out, would you?  I don’t have all day.”

 

He does have all day, technically, if Erwin says he does.  Still, there are better things he could be doing than sitting here on the receiving end of Erwin’s glare, not knowing what he’s being reprimanded about.  Levi hasn’t pissed off any higher ups lately, hasn’t offended any stray military police or insulted anyone important.

 

Erwin’s jaw flexes, like he’s grinding his teeth, and he closes the file on his desk with troubling finality.

 

“You’re going to stop drinking the thieves’ tea.”  

 

Only someone raised above ground would call it that, automatically associating the brew with it’s less savory uses.  Underground it’s primarily known by other names. Virginleaf.

 

Alphasbane.

 

Of all the things Levi expects Erwin to say, this isn’t one of them.  He flinches before he can stop himself, mouth falling open in surprise, one hand reaching out to cover his teacup protectively.  Like Erwin’s trying to snatch it from him, and the gesture gives away more than he likes, shows too much of his hand.

 

Surprised isn’t a strong enough word for what Levi’s feeling.  He should say something, should do something besides stare at Erwin like he’d grown another head, but his mouth isn’t cooperating, suddenly doesn’t know how to form words.  Levi tries to school his expression into something less baffled, but fails spectacularly.

 

He’s not equipped to deal with this, and Erwin seems to realize that Levi is at a loss, because he sighs and continues.

 

“I knew you were sneaking into the underground every month.  I didn’t really care, to be honest, you never get caught and if you want to skulk around down there it’s not my concern.  You’re a good soldier, and that’s all that really matters. Or it was, until I received some troubling reports from your subordinates after the last expedition, reports that have continued since your return.  Your squad was worried about your health. Dizziness, lethargy. I… I thought you were an addict, thought I’d tail you underground and find you in some opium den resupplying. It would have been better if you were, this…” Erwin shakes his head, waving vaguely at Levi, “this is worse.  You’re one of the-”

 

Levi sits up in his seat, jaw squared and eyes sparking with banked aggression.  The movement is quick enough that Erwin cuts himself off, rethinks what he’s about to say, changes course.

 

“You’re thirty-two years old, are you trying to kill yourself?  Even if you presented late, that’s eighteen, nineteen at best.”

 

Erwin stops talking, like he expects Levi to have something to say, except he really doesn’t.  What is there to say?

 

Eighteen is being incredibly conservative, as far as guesses go.  

 

Levi presented at fifteen, and has been drinking poison every day since.

 

It isn’t uncommon for young alphas and omegas down below to drink the tea, made from the roots and leaves of plants that only grow in the half-light of the underground.  It masks the scent of whoever drinks it, until they are effectively a beta, all their pheromones muted down into nothing. Parents sometimes give it to children who present early to prevent them from recognizing their mates too young and bonding before they are ready.  

 

Thieves and smugglers sometimes use it to keep keen alpha noses from noticing them on jobs, which is why it’s banned above ground, treated like something scandalous.

 

Not to mention that, topside, inhibiting the mate bond is viewed by most as a sacrilege.  Toying with fate in a way that was sure to bring its ire down, to tangle its strings until it’s impossible for someone to move forward in life.  Superstition dictates that it’s bad luck, not just for the person drinking the tea or refusing to bond, but for everyone around them. There is a word for people who view the gift of a soulmate as a curse instead of a blessing, a name for the groups of alphas and omegas who go deliberately unmated.

 

A slur, and to be counted among the shunned isn’t anything to take lightly.  Levi doesn’t consider himself one, not really, even if some of their ideas about the importance of free will resonate with him.  He’s never seen a pair of soulmates who regretted finding one another, though, and he’s sure his own would be just as perfect for him.

 

Except sealing the bond requires intimacy, and the idea of it makes him feel sick, makes Levi feel like snakes are twisting in his guts.  Makes his palms sweat, and his skin crawl. Dizzy, as though he’s spinning wild on his wires with no way to stop, and Levi… Levi is broken.

 

His mate is better off never catching his scent, not when Levi is incapable of giving them what they need.

 

Teeth in his neck, and hands on his thighs, and Levi can’t, he can’t, so he picks up his tea.  Holds Erwin’s gaze as he drains it, defiance written into every inch of him, before delicately setting the cup back on the desk.  It’s unfamiliar now, at least when he’s dealing with Erwin, his rebellion rusty with disuse.

 

“It’s not your decision to make,” Levi says with more confidence than he feels, because he’s wrong on so many levels.  The tea is illegal. Erwin is his superior. Sneaking into the underground is forbidden.

 

And drinking it is slowly, slowly killing him.  Even the shunned only use it for a few years after they first present, a performative act of disobedience, tapering off before they start suffering any ill effects.  The decline is slow enough that Levi hasn’t been worried, because really, what’s the life expectancy of someone on the front lines of the corps?

 

He’ll be dead long before the tea can kill him, crushed in a titan’s fist, gnashed to pieces in their jaws.

 

Or so Levi’s always thought, and yet here he is— tremors in his hands, a headache that never completely fades, circles growing darker and darker under his eyes.  Nosebleeds, and nausea, and nightmares.

 

More often than not he wakes up screaming, faces of the dead lingering behind his eyes, and Levi can’t remember the last time he slept through the night.

 

All this, and it’s still better than the alternative.  Better than some alpha finding him and realizing how ruined he is, how rough around the edges, callous and unyielding.  

 

There is nothing soft in Levi, and it has served him well his entire life, but he’s not made for this.  To be half of a whole.

 

To complete someone, when he’s so incomplete.

 

Erwin lifts his chin, and it’s something Levi remembers well, the look he wears when he’s giving someone a choice between two equally terrible options.

 

“You’re being pulled off expeditions and duties at Wall Rose.  As of right now, you’re in charge of the incoming cadets. Training them should give you enough time to shake the withdrawals from coming off the tea.  Or you can continue drinking it, be you’ll be stationed here permanently. I’ve been watching you during 3D drills for over a week, and you’re a liability outside the walls right now.  It’s entirely up to you, of course, I can’t force you to stop, even if I’d like to do so.”

 

Join the corps, or go to jail.

 

Stop drinking the tea, or never see the world outside the walls again.

 

“The graduates of the 104th will be brought to the barracks just after dawn.  They’re yours, one way or the other,” Erwin says, and opens up the file on his desk again, a dismissal if Levi’s ever seen one.

 

Wordless, and concise, and there is nothing to be gained from lingering.

 

The sun is rising when Levi goes outside, though it will be hours before it’s high enough to be seen over the walls, over the treetops.  The sound of hoofbeats echoes in the distance, and Levi sighs, and heads towards the stables.

 

He wouldn’t normally drink another cup of tea until lunch, but he’s already twitchy.  Every step is heavier, ominous somehow, but Levi keeps going.

 

Just like always.

 

It’s all he can do.

 

-

 

There are more volunteers than usual, fewer of the eligible graduates going into the military police, and Levi can’t help but be pleased.  There’s no erasing it, Levi’s knee-jerk hatred of the MPs, and losing skilled fighters to their ranks always grates. Levi being in charge of new recruits means that, by extension, his squad is in charge of them as well.  Someone has briefed them this morning, because Levi finds Petra and Auruo with the cadets in the barracks, getting everyone squared away.

 

He’ll have their files on his desk later that day lining out basic information and skills, notes from their previous training, but reading about them in black and white is no substitute for seeing them in action.

 

They’re so young it makes his chest hurt, and he packs the feeling away, and pretends it doesn’t exist at all.  There isn’t any time for it.

 

They have work to do.

 

Someone is muttering about breakfast, and Levi makes an annoyed sound through his teeth, running his fingers through the dust on the surface of a rickety table.

 

“No one eats until this place is clean.  Not just this morning, but every morning.  Get it done, and we’ll go from there.”

 

Everyone’s eyes snap over to him.  Auruo grins, obviously having expected this, a devious kind of enjoyment on his face.  Petra’s smirk is softer, but she’s amused too, and she gestures over towards Levi at the collective groans of the recruits.

 

“Captain Levi will be overseeing your training personally, so I suggest you get to it.”

 

There are a flurry of salutes, a handful of half-hearted acknowledgments, yes Captain, as the recruits all slowly move to obey.

 

All except one, who’s crouched next to a bunk with his hand in his pack, frozen in place.  He’s staring up at Levi, eyes wide and vivid bright, irises so green it’s almost eerie. His hair is wild, tangled from the ride in and falling in messy russet waves across his cheekbones.  He cocks his head to the side, and his nostrils flare as he breathes in deep, brows furrowing in confusion.

 

Something inside of Levi throbs, and it’s painful, and suffocating.  

 

As though he’s full of smoke, and there is nowhere for it to go.  

 

The world rocks unsteady beneath his feet, and it feels like the ground has gone out from under him.  Like Levi’s falling without his wires, except he knows it won’t hurt when he lands.

 

A dark haired girl reaches over and nudges the recruit on the shoulder, trying to shake him out of his reverie, hissing his name under her breath.

 

“Eren,” she says, but he doesn’t look away, doesn’t blink, doesn’t move.

 

Levi has the irrational urge to touch him.  Comb through Eren’s hair with his fingers, untangle the knots there.  He doesn’t decide to move, but suddenly he’s too close, and Eren has to crane his neck to hold Levi’s gaze.  Eren reaches out like someone in a trance, fingertips brushing over the toe of Levi’s boot, curling around the back of his ankle without looking away from his face.

 

Eren is beautiful, in a way that feels bigger than both of them.  The skies outside the walls, the unbroken expanse of the horizon.

 

Levi realizes abruptly that he would throw himself in a titan’s jaws to save this boy.  Step in front of a bullet, duck into a blade. Would die without hesitation if it meant Eren stayed alive, and it isn’t frightening, isn’t strange.

 

Levi feels like he’s come home.

 

Nothing makes sense, and Levi is caught in Eren’s stare, unable to break free.

 

 _“Eren,”_ the girl says again, urgent, yanking harder on Eren’s shoulder.  

 

Eren doesn’t let go of Levi’s ankle, and the tugging on the leather of his boot snaps Levi out of his daze.  He takes a step backwards, snatching his foot out of Eren’s hold, rougher than necessary. Feels guilty, like he’s been caught doing something wrong, and he crosses his arms over his chest and glares.

 

“Get to work, cadet,” he says, nodding his head towards the rest of the barracks.

 

Eren jerks at Levi’s voice, and flails backwards, landing hard on his ass.  He stumbles up to his feet, squaring his feet, fist coming to his chest in a salute.

 

“Yes, Captain, I- I’m sorry,” he says, and his voice is rough, almost slurred, like he’s coming out of a dream.

 

Levi turns on his heel, fleeing the room like someone is chasing him.  Escaping, except there’s no wolf at his heels, no titan snapping its teeth.

 

There is only Eren, earnest and untamed and alluring.

 

Just before he walks out the door Levi looks over his shoulder, and Eren is still staring.

 

It’s hard to move, but Levi goes.  He palms at his throat, feels the heat that’s gathering there, and pretends he isn’t dying to turn back.

 

-

 

The first few days of duty for new scouts are always more busy work than anything else.  It isn’t hard to avoid Eren like the plague, but it feels wrong somehow. Putting distance between them is like walking underwater, more effort than it should be, limbs dragging and reluctant to obey.  

 

Levi doesn’t even know why he’s doing it, why it is so fundamentally necessary to stay far away.  

 

Except he does, really.  Every time he gets too close he catches faint traces of Eren’s scent, and it feels too good in his lungs, drugging and addictive.

 

He blames it on the withdrawals, which is easy, because they’re ever present and just this side of crippling.

 

His headache goes from nagging to excruciating, and his bones feel brittle, like they’re ready to break.  The mild, endless nausea is acute, now, and Levi doesn’t eat, because he knows he won’t keep anything down.  He itches all over, and the skin over his glands is inflamed and sore. His collar brushes the ones on his throat, and his cuffs rasp over those on his wrists, until he wants to cut them out of his flesh.

 

Three days off the tea, and Levi feels like he’s dying.

 

He doesn’t show up for breakfast.  Levi can’t even get out of bed, burning with fever, sweating and delirious.

 

His mother is there at his bedside, standing just out of reach.  Beautiful, and ephemeral, and _oh, Levi, what have you done to yourself?_

“Mama… ‘m sorry,” he says, tongue dry and sticking to the roof of his mouth, and she frowns, and steps away.

 

When she turns back it’s not his mother.  It’s Petra, laying a palm on Levi’s forehead, the touch cool against his overheated skin.  Except something is off about it, wrong in a way he can’t put his finger on. He recoils from her, but the movement sends him reeling, stomach rebelling at the sudden sense of vertigo.  There is nothing in it, nothing to lose, but he dry heaves all the same, tucking his face against his bicep as he gags. It hurts, muscles clenching around the emptiness in his belly, spots swimming in his periphery.

 

He is on fire, and gasping in the smoke of it.  His jaw shivers, and it smells like something is burning.  He thinks he’s seizing, but can’t be sure. Everything aches, and when he comes back to himself the room is too loud, and too bright.

 

There is a struggle underway nearby, and Levi glances over, blinking through the blur in his vision to find Eren standing there.  Eld has a palm splayed out on his chest, pushing, and Gunter and Auruo are holding Eren’s arms, the trio trying unsuccessfully to manhandle him out the door.  

 

The whole world is foggy, insubstantial and hard to make out, except for Eren.  

 

He looks feral.  Looks frantic, fighting against Levi’s squad, trying to force his way further into the room.  He’s shouting, something desperate and incoherent, and Levi reaches out towards him, hand trembling with the effort it takes to raise it.

 

“Sorry,” he slurs, and it doesn’t feel like enough, but he still has to say it.  “Eren, I‘m sorry.”

 

Levi’s taking something from him, something vital, and he doesn’t think he can ever give it back.

 

Dying is supposed to hurt, but not like this, not like he’s gutting people on his way out.

 

Blackness swallows him, and Levi lets it, wounded in places he didn’t know existed in his chest.

 

 


	2. Promise

Consciousness is fickle, and he floats in and out of it for an eternity, forlorn and adrift.  The flashes of clarity he has are few, and disorienting; Hanji talking to him in riddles, Petra wiping his face with a wet cloth, the sharp sting of a needle in his arm.

 

When he’s lucid again Erwin is there, sitting in a chair next to his bed, stone-faced.  The sun is rising outside his window, muted by clouds, and Levi is grateful for them.

 

Everything is already too real, even without unmerciful light of dawn.

 

“I owe you an apology,” he says, and Levi can’t help it.

 

He laughs.  It’s a dark sound, bleak and unsettling, out of place in the hush of the room.  

 

“Go on then,” Levi replies, voice raw, throat protesting the words.

 

“I didn’t realize the withdrawals would be so severe.  I’m sorry for that, but I stand by my decision. Better this than the alternative.”

 

Better broken than dead, he doesn’t say, but Levi hears it anyway.

 

“Has anyone ever told you you’re shit at apologies?” Levi says, and Erwin huffs, and smiles.

 

“It’s been a while, but yes, it’s been mentioned,” Erwin says, and then goes quiet, and thoughtful.  “They tell me you were delirious with fever for a long time, calling for people who weren’t here. Your mother.  Your uncle.” 

 

Erwin pauses, head cocking to the side, and Levi knows what’s coming, steels himself against it.  

 

Remembers, now, how it felt in his mouth, like it was something he’d been waiting to say all his life.

 

“Eren Jaeger.”

 

Levi closes his eyes, and breathes in deep, letting it all out in a sigh.

 

“I wasn’t sure who that was, actually, until Petra informed me he’s one of your new recruits.  A young alpha from the 104th. He’s been quite upset these past few days.”

 

Levi doesn’t open his eyes.  Tries not to give Erwin a reaction of any kind, schooling himself to stillness, keeping his voice carefully disinterested.

 

“You know how the new scouts get sometimes.  Auruo still hasn’t shaken it, and he’s been with me for a long time.”

 

Levi hates it, that misplaced hero worship, how they put him up on a pedestal he can’t get down from.  It’s tiring, and dangerous, and he wishes they’d fucking stop.

 

“He’s been sleeping on the floor outside your door for the past three nights straight.  Eren, that is, not Auruo.” 

 

Three nights.  Levi wonders if that’s how long he’s been out, lost in the sway of withdrawals, a slave to his own stupidity.

 

He’s tacky with dried sweat, and his muscles are sore, like he landed badly on his gear.  It will be days before he can wear his harness, or participate in training drills. His glands are still swollen, and they feel bruised, and oversensitive.  Levi wants a shower. Some water, a set of clean sheets, maybe a meal.

 

He doesn’t want to have this conversation right now.  Not even in the privacy of his own thoughts, let alone with Erwin Smith.

 

“Would you do me a favor and fuck off for a while?  You’re exhausting,” he says, and Erwin looks amused as he stands, and stretches.

 

“I’ll send one of your squad up with some fresh food,” Erwin says, and Levi nods, eyes threatening to close again.  There is a long, heavy moment of silence, and Levi knows even without looking that Erwin is hovering near the doorway.

 

“It’s not his fault,” Erwin says, almost pleading.  “It can be something good, if you let it.”

 

Levi waves him away, dismissive, and eventually hears the click of his door shutting, Erwin’s footsteps fading down the hall.  

 

In the silence left behind, he wonders if Eren is at his door, now.  Shivering on the floor, curled up against the chill.

 

When Levi stands his legs shake, and he has to lean into the wall to keep from collapsing into a heap.  A whine escapes him, something foreign and unfamiliar, rising unbidden from the depths of his throat. Something lonely, and hollow.

 

It’s echoed from just outside his door, low and mournful, dragging on so long it sounds inhuman.  On, and on, until finally it breaks on a sob. Levi leans harder into the wall, sinks down it onto his knees, forehead pressed against the wood.  There are voices in the hall, whispering fervently, like they’re trying to coax Eren away without drawing Levi’s attention. Levi wants to stop them.  Wants to crawl out there, soothe away the wounded noises Eren is making, tell him it will be okay.

 

Tell him he’s not going to spend the rest of his life alone, desperate for something Levi can’t give him, empty in a way that can never be filled.

 

Wants to, except it would be a lie, so he doesn’t.  Levi drags himself into the shower, and kneels under the sputtering spray of icy water until he’s numb all over.  

 

Everything still hurts inside, but it’s nothing he doesn’t deserve.

 

Levi’s fucking broken.

 

-

 

Training is exhausting for all the wrong reasons.

 

None of his squad comment on his absence, or his illness, or how ragged Levi looks.  The tension in his shoulders, his short fuse, but the anger in him doesn’t feel explosive.

 

Levi feels like he’s going to collapse into himself, instead.

 

The squad certainly doesn’t mention the fresh, potent scent of omega that now trails through the air after Levi.  It’s impossible to miss, stronger every day, like his body is making up for lost time.

 

Levi’s back in his gear after a few days of bedrest, even if he has to take it easy once he gets in the air.  Spins still leave him queasy, and his landings are shaky at best, but he keeps it together.

 

Until he’s anywhere close to Eren, and then he’s far, far less steady.

 

Eren’s eyes never leave him when they’re in sight of each other, tracking Levi unfailingly, an invisible weight that doesn’t let up.  His nostrils flare, and his fists clench, and more than once someone has to physically knock him out of the haze he’s in to get his attention.  Levi expects it to affect Eren’s training, to leave him distracted, but if anything the opposite is true.

 

Eren moves on his wires like a man possessed.  Rides his horse like his life depends on it. Fights hand-to-hand like he’s got a grudge to settle.  It’s hard to look away from, and when he catches Levi watching, he lights up all over.

 

There’s a fire in him that Levi ignites without meaning to, until he’s so alive it’s almost frightening.  Levi’s throat itches, and his skin aches, and he can’t, he— 

 

—he can’t.

 

So Eren looks.  Goes incandescent, just having Levi close, and Levi looks away.  Turns away. Walks away.

 

Again, and again, and it should get easier, but it doesn’t. 

 

It gets harder.

 

Levi aches.

 

-

 

It’s less than a week before Petra corners him, and really, he should have seen this coming.  From what he can piece together, it was her taking care of him while he was in the worst of his withdrawals.  She knows he was on the tea, knows he almost died coming off it.

 

Listened to him mumble Eren’s name, fever-ridden and frantic, begging softly for his mate.

 

Levi spent almost two decades, scentless and unrecognizable, only to come off the tea the same day his alpha showed up at his feet.  It would be poetic if Levi wasn’t such a disaster.

 

Fate feels like a weight dragging him down, and it’s all Levi can do not to take Eren with him.

 

Petra is waiting in his quarters after a particularly brutal day of training.  It’s getting harder to ignore his instincts, and his moods turn dark and volatile, everything in Levi worn down from fighting himself.  

 

Petra stands next to Levi’s bed wringing her hands, Auruo’s mark a dark slash on the column of her throat.  Levi’s eyes are drawn to it as they always are now, lingering, and it’s hard to look away.

 

Envy flares, and refuses to die down, because something primitive in Levi wants that for himself— Eren’s mark on his throat, Eren’s scent on his skin.

 

Except putting it there is impossible for him, so he forces his eyes up to meet Petra’s, and sighs.

 

“Can we please not?”

 

Petra looks determined.  Unmoving, the same way she gets when they’re outside the walls, that dogged refusal to accept defeat no matter the odds.  She raises her chin and stand up straighter, hands falling to her sides.

 

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this to yourself,” Petra says, words almost a whisper, “why you’re doing this to Eren.  He’s a good person, a good soldier, he— he’d be so good for you, Levi.”

 

Levi knows he would, but Eren deserves more than Levi can provide.  Deserves someone who can give him everything. All of themselves, instead of the fragments Levi has to offer.  Words but not touch.

 

Warmth without heat.

 

“It’s better this way,” Levi says, and it sounds like a lie, even to his own ears.

 

“This is breaking the both of you,” Petra replies, and Levi just nods.  It’s not a real answer. He doesn’t have one for her.

 

She’s right, Levi’s destroying them both, but he’s been living in pieces for a long, long time, and Eren is young, and vibrant.  Resilient enough to put himself back together on the other side of Levi. To push past, and keep going.

 

To leave Levi behind without bearing a scar, and Levi wants that, wants Eren to be happy.

 

No matter how much it hurts to watch.

 

Petra leaves, and Levi lays in bed, and doesn’t sleep.


	3. Feast

       

Eren stays nearby without slipping too far into Levi’s space.  He’s always there, on the edges of Levi’s awareness, not quite close enough to touch.  

 

Close enough to scent, and that’s agony all on its own, but one Levi is loathe to give up.  

 

Eren sits at the table next to Levi’s in the mess hall.  Keeps pace with him on the 3D gear. Grooms his gelding in the stall across from Levi’s mare.

 

Sleeps in the floor outside Levi’s room, and no one tries to stop him anymore.  Sometimes he’s still there when Levi leaves in the mornings, drowsy and blinking slow, nestled in a ragged pile of blankets.

 

Sometimes he runs his fingers over the leather of Levi’s boots as he pases by, just like he had that first day, and Levi holds still, and lets him.

 

They fall into a bleak sort of pattern, Levi’s instincts wailing unhappily in his chest, Eren watching Levi like he’s afraid he’ll disappear.  A week passes, two, and then they’re ready to redeploy, the 104th transferring to a defense point along Wall Rose. Levi and his squad are going with them, but it is only temporary, long enough to familiarize them with their duties at the wall.

 

Then Levi will be going back to headquarters, preparing for the next expedition along with the more seasoned scouts.  

 

Putting miles upon miles between them, and it already stings, the thought of Eren being so far away.  Maybe that’s what Eren needs, though, to have some distance. Maybe he can shake off the cloud of Levi’s scent, move on from from the toxic pull of it, the way it draws him in like gravity and holds him fast.

 

There is a ruthless, selfish part of Levi that hopes he can’t.

 

Levi isn’t surprised to find Eren in his room the night before they move out.  He’s been expecting it— dreading, or anticipating, Levi doesn’t know which. Eren’s dressed in pajamas, sitting on Levi’s bed, Levi’s pillow pressed to his face as he breathes in deep.  His eyes flutter open and seek Levi’s, and he looks vulnerable like Levi’s never seen before, like he’s ready to fall apart. 

 

“Can you not feel it?” Eren asks, hushed and tentative, dropping the pillow into his lap.  It would be easy to feign ignorance, but Eren isn’t a fool, and Levi is tired of pretending.  Tired of lying to himself.

 

Just fucking tired, and denying it would be futile.  Like telling Eren there was no sun in the sky, no stars in the night, when he could see them with his own eyes.

 

“It’s all I can feel,” Levi says, and he sounds lost.  Young.

 

Afraid.

 

Eren stands and takes a step forward, close enough that Levi can smell him, the heady rush of his scent.  He reaches out, and Levi flinches back like prey. Like something weak.

 

Something small, and insignificant.

 

Eren lets his hand fall, and Levi watches his jaw shake, eyes gone wet and bright and desperate.

 

“Then  _ why?”  _ Eren asks, waiting for an answer.  But Levi can’t speak, can’t breathe, can’t think, and so Eren continues, voice wavering through the words.  “I know about the… about everything, and I thought you just… needed time. That you couldn’t feel it, you didn’t know it was me.”  He lifts a hand to his chest, clutching at the fabric there like he can reach inside. Find his heart, and fix it.

 

Like he can claw out the ache.  

 

“But if you know, if you can feel this, then—“ 

 

“I can’t, I…  I can’t be what you need me to be, Eren.”

 

Eren frowns, brows furrowing together as he cocks his head to the side.

 

“I don’t need you to  _ be  _ anything.  I just need  _ you.”   _

 

Something in Levi preens.  He tamps it down brutally, refuses to allow himself to focus on how good it sounds,  _ I just need  _ you.

 

“It’s not that easy,” Levi says, forcing the words out through clenched teeth. 

 

“It can be,” Eren replies, all wide eyes and earnest sincerity, “if you let it.”

 

“It can’t.  I can’t.”

 

He’s trying for finality, but it comes off pitiful instead, like he’s on the edge of tears.  Eren leans down, eyes darting around Levi’s face, searching.

 

Begging.

 

“Explain it to me.  Make me understand.”

 

He can’t handle it, having Eren this close without touching him.  Levi wants to hide his face in Eren’s chest, let Eren wrap him up tight.  Shuts his eyes instead, and clenches his fists.

 

“What’s the point of a mate if you can’t seal the bond?  I can’t be that for you. Intimacy like that, I—” Levi trails off, and laughs, dark and humorless.  “An omega who won’t fuck, what a fucking joke.”

 

When he opens his eyes again, Eren’s face is twisted with the most genuine, utter confusion Levi has ever seen.

 

“Is that why you won’t let me within five feet of you?  You think that’s all I want, to get between your legs and put my teeth in your throat?”  Levi’s expression must be answer enough, because Eren’s shifts into something horrified and indignant.  “I don’t even care about that. I just want to talk to you, be near you. Spend time with you where you’re not bitching about my footwork or how sloppy my landings are.  You won’t even look at me half the time, and it makes me want to throw up. I can’t eat, I barely sleep. I feel like I’m losing my mind. I’m not trying to crawl in your goddamn bed, Levi, I just…”  

 

Eren reaches out and takes Levi’s hand.  Laces their fingers together, and Levi feels his resistance waver, feels himself unwind.  

 

“Just give me fucking chance before you decide I’m not worth the effort.”

 

It sounds so simple, but it really, really isn’t.  Nothing in Levi’s life is that easy, and it will hurt so much more to have a taste of happiness only to lose it again.

 

“We’re moving out at sunrise,” he says, Eren’s hand warm in his own, “you need to get some rest.  It’s a long ride.”

 

Eren takes a deep breath, and lifts Levi’s hand, holding his gaze as he presses his lips against Levi’s knuckles.  It’s soft, and chaste, and full of honesty that Levi can’t allow himself to believe.

 

“I’ll be ready.  Wherever you go, I’m going.”

 

It sounds like a threat, but feels like a promise, and when Eren steps away Levi almost follows.

 

He lays on the floor just inside his door that night, and listens to Eren breathe.

 

Levi closes his eyes.

 

He sleeps.

 

-

 

They get to Wall Rose.

 

They get to Wall Rose, and everything goes to hell.  

 

There’s heat, and noise, and to the people screaming in the streets below it must seem like the end of the world.  A titan peers over the the wall that has kept them safe for so long, and Levi doesn’t see it kick a hole through the gate, but he certainly feels it.  The stones shiver under his feet, and when he looks up Eren is there, swords out and eyes on fire.

 

He shoots his hooks, and leaps, and Levi watches with terror snaking through his guts, boots already flying over the ramparts to close the distance between them.  Eren is suspended in slow motion, vengeance made flesh, and Levi loves him desperately.

 

He was a fool to think he could leave this boy behind.  That he could be satisfied with anything less than having Eren by his side, always.  

 

The titan is gone, vanishing in rush of steam, and there is nothing to do but fight.  It is a blur of titans falling, of gore on his face, knuckles aching from holding the grips of his swords too tightly.  Rubble and steel and the boom of canons.

 

The utter euphoria of soaring into battle with Eren at his back.  He doesn’t have to look to know where Eren is, or what he’s doing.  They move in sync together, and it’s less like fighting, and more like dancing.

 

These are steps they know by heart already.

 

Then, for one vicious moment, Eren is gone, disappearing into a titan’s belly, and the people down below are right.

 

The world  _ is  _ ending, at least for Levi.  There’s a hole in his chest where Eren has been, gaping and hungry and impossible to fill.  The grief is startling, and absolute, and no amount of titan blood is going to satisfy him. 

 

He’d thought he was broken before, but now he is hollow, a husk of a person.  Levi’s making noise, but he can’t hear himself over the ringing in his ears, over the rush of agony in his veins.  This is it, what dying is supposed to feel like, and it’s everything Levi is owed. To reap what he’s sown.

 

Eren was his, and now he is gone, and Levi is lost.

 

He’s already moving, flying through the air towards the titan that ate Eren, when there is a flash like lightning.  It’s blinding, and he changes direction, landing in a crouch on a nearby roof to blink the spots from his vision. 

 

Levi watches with something like wonder as the titan splits apart, and Eren emerges with a roar.  Fifteen meters tall, eyes glowing, cheeks torn and jagged. He doesn’t understand how, but Levi knows it’s Eren.

 

He can feel it, unmistakable like the beating of his heart, pounding steadily in his chest.  The other scouts nearby are speechless and gaping, frozen in place, but Levi doesn’t hesitate.  He hooks into a nearby building, flinging himself at Eren, and Levi understands the meaning of  _ reckless abandon. _

 

It feels just like this, soaring through the air towards something monstrous, smiling and unafraid.

 

Eren sees him coming.  Holds his hand out, and it’s so easy, landing there in a crouch like he belongs in a titan’s palm.  Eren lifts Levi to his face, rumbling out a guttural noise and nuzzling into him hard. Too hard, and Levi sways under the force of it for a moment, laying a palm flat against the side of Eren’s nose.  Giant green eyes stare at him unblinking, and he stares back, and lets the rightness of it settle.

 

That Eren is beastly, and terrifying, and still by his side.

 

“Stay close,” he says, and Eren nods, and lifts his other hand.

 

Fists it over his heart.

 

They’ve still got dancing to do.

 

-

 

They seal the hole in Wall Rose.

 

Eren comes out of the back of his titan’s neck, scars on his cheeks and covered in blood, hot enough that it burns.  Levi picks him up, and Eren blinks at him, feverish and confused.

 

“You’re here,” Eren says, and Levi leans down to press a kiss to his forehead.

 

“Wherever you go.”

 

Levi buries his face in Eren’s neck, fingers tangled in his hair,  _ mine, just mine,  _ and that is all takes.  There is a rush of sensation, and Levi is dizzy and overwhelmed.  He holds Eren tighter, gasping through it, and it’s like he’s being taken apart, and put back together whole.  

 

The skin on Levi’s throat warms, and stretches, and he doesn’t need to look.

 

Eren’s mark is there.

 

Eren’s fingers find it, searching and gentle, stroking over it reverently.

 

Levi carries him home.

 

-

 

Levi nurses Eren through his fever, and sleeps in his bed, both of them coiled together under the blankets.  The mark on his throat darkens, and solidifies, and Levi can feel Eren through the bond, the steady, solid weight of him. 

 

The utter euphoria he feels, even in sleep, just having Levi close.  Like that’s all he wants, all he needs.

 

All there is, and the world is falling down outside, but all of that can wait. 

 

Levi has to be there when Eren wakes, by his side.

 

Always.

    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //blows kisses
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this, fam, please give me your love.

**Author's Note:**

> Praise be to Revi, without whom this would not have been possible.


End file.
